Fallout
by lucindamellark
Summary: What would happen if the Hunger Games characters read the Hunger Games trilogy?
1. Chapter 1

_I did not steal my idea from anyone. Or anything. I really liked the idea, and I hope you all like the story! I do not own anything._

Fame and Fortune vs. Certain Death.

I wake up screaming for my father to run. My body is covered in sweat, and my recent nightmare had been about the mine explosion my father was killed in. I kept on telling him to run, but he kept on mining, laughing with his friends. "RUN!" I screamed, before I was blown into blindness. I got up, shivering and trying to clear the nightmare from my thoughts…..again. This same nightmare plagues me every night, and not once am I able to stop him or get his attention. The last thing I see is his laugh changing to a look of shock and then getting blown into bits. To get my mind off things, I dress in my normal hunting clothes and headed into the living room.

"Prim?" I call. "Mom?" At least one of them waits until I get up to go to town. Where are they?

"Katniss, honey?" my mother responds. "Are you awake?"

"Yes. Mom, where's Prim?" I ask.

"Oh, she was summoned somewhere. Haymitch Abernathy came to get her this morning. That reminds me, their waiting for you. Here's the address." She says, and then leaves the room. She handed me a sheet of paper that has a place scrawled on it. I decide not to call her back and ask any of the questions that just popped into my mind, and head for the address. It's Haymitch Abernathy's house, the only living District 12 victor of the Hunger Games. I decide not to think about the Hunger Games right now. Truly, thinking about them makes me sick. But don't worry; I'm sure it'll pop up soon enough. As for District 12, you might be wondering what that is. Well, out of the ashes of "North America" rose Panem, ringed by 13 Districts and a Capitol. Quite a while ago, the Darks Day's arose, where there was a war. Capitol vs. Districts. The Capitol won, and to prove their superiority, District 13 got destroyed and the Hunger Games were born. Once again, I won't talk about the Games. They truly make me sick.

I get to the house in no time, and stop in front of the door. I ring the doorbell and Prim opens the door. She hugs me quickly, takes my hand, and leads me to the living room. Is that what you call this gigantic mess? All throughout the house is garbage. The smell of liquor and bile is enough to knock you unconscious. How does someone live in this condition?

"What's going on, Prim?" I ask. She just silently puts her finger to her lips and leads me to the couch. It appears to be the only clean spot in this house. Seating on and around it are a crowd of people who I have no idea how they all got together here. Finnick Odair, who lives in District 4 and was a Victor for the Hunger Games, Peeta Mellark, who I will not get into detail with, Gale Hawthorne, my hunting partner and best friend, Haymitch Abernathy, already explained who he was, Johanna Mason, lives in District 7 and was a Victor of the Hunger Games, and 4 other people who I have no idea who they are.

"Katniss. Welcome." Says Haymitch. "You're probably wondering why you're here. Well….so am I. Today a suspicious package showed up on my doorstep, along with a list. You were on this list. Simple enough, right? Everyone here was on this list. Beats me why…..but you all are. Including me. The package has books-"

"Books? I came here to read a book? You're kidding me, right?" says Johanna. I can't help agreeing with her. Why do we need to read a book?

Haymitch shoots daggers at Johanna. "Anyway, before I get to the books, I will ask you to all say your name.

"Thresh" says the boy with dark skin.

"Rue" says a little girl around Prim's age that has the same skin colour as the boy.

"Johanna Mason" says Johanna.

"Finnick Odair," says Finnick.

"Gale Hawthorne" says Gale.

"Peeta Mellark" says Peeta.

"Chaff" says a man sitting next to Haymitch.

"Beetee" says a man with huge glasses.

"Primrose Everdeen" says Prim.

"Uh, and I'm Katniss Everdeen" I say.

"Excellent. For those of you who aren't aware, although I find that highly unlikely, my name is Haymitch Abernathy. Winner of the 50th Quarter Quell. Famous for-"

"We get it." I snap, annoyed.

"Oh, feisty, this one." Says Finnick. This makes both Gale and Peeta raise their heads, glaring at him.

"Can we please just get to the "suspicious package"" mocks Johanna.

"Okay. Fine. These books are based on something we all know. The Hunger Games. This didn't surprise me much, considering everyone knows about the Hunger Games. But why were they delievered to my house, you may ask-"

"Really, because none of us asked" says Finnick.

"Shut up! As I was saying, the reason why these books were delivered to my house was because they have every person who was on the list in them. There are 3 books. So, a trilogy."

"No. Really?" says Johanna, "I would have never guessed."

"ANYWAY, I read the note and it says that these books would be useful in a way that they determine the future. What is going to happen today, tomorrow, next year? In 10 years?-"

"How about right now" says Gale. Murmurs of agreement go among the group.

"Fine. The first person to read the book will be you, Everdeen."

"There's two of us." I say.

"_Katniss _Everdeen" Haymitch repeats.

"Oh, yay. Excellent. Just a question, but where _are _the books, exactly?" I ask.

"Oh, right. Here." Says Haymitch, handing me a box. Inside are 3 books, the first one with a picture of a Mockingjay…pin?

"Are you sure you want to read these?" I ask.

"Positive. Now read." Haymitch responds.

I open the book, and begin Chapter 1.


	2. Chapter 2

_I did not steal my idea from anyone. Or anything. I really liked the idea, and I hope you all like the story! I do not own anything._

_When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold._

"Okay, so what I'm getting from the person…is that she's/he's divorced?" says Johanna.

"What a wonderful way to start a book" says Finnick, "I wake up and the other side of the bed is cold…..ha. That's rich. I could use that."

_My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress_

"Wow, Prim is a strange name for a guy." Says Finnick.

"I'M Prim" shouts Prim.

"Oh….i'm not understanding this" says Finnick.

"Really, you don't have to." Says Peeta.

_She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping._

"So, let me get this straight. This is from Katniss' point of view?" says Gale.

"Yup" I say.

"And this is the day of the reaping?" he asks.

"Yup. Wasn't it obvious?" Katniss says.

_I prop myself up on one elbow. There's enough light in the bedroom to see them._

"WAIT! Stop there. Who's "them"?" asks Finnick.

"I don't know. Why don't we read and find out?" Peeta asks.

_My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mother's body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother's look younger, still worn but not so beaten-down. Prim's face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me. _

Finnick is laughing hysterically, so hard, that he falls off the edge of the couch that he was sitting on and into the mess beside the couch. He continues laughing though.

"Cheeks….pressed…together…"

"Ha. Very funny. Ya, honestly, can't you see me laughing hysterically?" says Johanna.

_Sitting at Prim's knees, guarding her is the world's ugliest cat. Mashed-in nose, half of one ear missing, eyes the color of rotting squash. Prim named him Buttercup, insisting that his muddy coat matched the bright flower. He hates me. Or at least distrusts me. Even though it was years ago, I think he still remembers how I tried to drown him in a bucket when Prim brought him home._

"Animal Abuse!" shouts Beetee.

"I second that." Says Johanna.

"The cat is in the bed, too?" asks Finnick.

"Really Finnick, really?" asks Peeta.

"No wonder why he distrusts you" says Thresh.

"A bucket would be a bad place to die" says Rue.

_Scrawny kitten, belly swollen with worms, crawling with fleas. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed. But Prim begged so hard, cried even, I had to let him stay. It turned out okay. My mother got rid of the vermin and he's a born mouser. Even the occasional rat. Sometimes, when I clean a kill, I feed Buttercup the entrails. He has stopped hissing at me. Entrails. No hissing. This is the closest we will ever come to love. I swing my legs off the bed and slide into my hunting boots. Supple leather that has molded to my feet. I pull on trousers, a shirt, tuck my long dark braid into a cap, and grab my forage bag._

"Wait….wait…wait. She was naked before?" asks Finnick.

"Are you an idiot? NO!" I say.

"Sheesh, just a question."

"A stupid one."

"A question's a question."

"I could honestly care less."

_Our part of District 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour. Men and women with hunched shoulders, swollen knuckles, many who have stopped trying to scrub the coal dust out of their broken nails, the lines of their sunken faces. But today the black cinder streets are empty. Shutters on the squat gray houses are closed. The reaping isn't until two. May as well sleep in. If you can._

"Dun, dun, dunnnn." Says Finnick.

"What?" Gale asks.

"If you can. You don't find that creepy?"

_Our house is almost at the edge of the Seam. I only have to pass a few gates to reach the scruffy field I called the Meadow. Separating the Meadow from the woods, in fact enclosing all of District 12, is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed –wire loops. In theory, it's supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day as a deterrent to the predators that live in the woods—packs of wild dogs, lone cougars, bears—that used to threaten our streets. But since we're lucky to get two or three hours of electricity in the evenings, it's usually safe to touch. Even so, I always take a moment to listen carefully for the hum that means the fence is alive. Right now, it's silent as a stone. Concealed by a clump of bushes, I flatten out my belly and slide under a two-foot stretch that's been loose for years. There are several other weak spots in the fence, but this one is so close to home I almost always enter the woods here._

"Seam?" asks Johanna.

"That fence sounds quite frightening," says Beetee.

"A fence can't be alive. That's just ridiculous." says Finnick.

"Really? That's ridiculous?" says Gale.

"What? Look at that fence. It's alive!" says Finnick with mock fear.

"Ha-ha. Very funny."

_As soon as I'm in the trees, I retrieve a bow and sheath of arrows from a hollow log._

"A hollow leg?" asks Finnick.

"LOG!" Haymitch yells.

_Electrified or not, the fence has been successful at keeping flesh-eaters out of District the woods, they roam freely, and there are added concerns like venomous snakes, rabid animals, and no real paths to follow. But there's also food if you know how to find it. My father knew and he taught me some before he was blown to bits in a mine explosion. There was nothing even to bury. I was eleven then. Five years later, I still wake up screaming for him to run. _

"Rabid animals?" asks Rue.

"To bits? Really?" gulps Thresh.

"Do you actually scream for him to run? Because then that would mean your physco. Like "AHHHHH. RUNNN."?" Asks Finnick

"Do you hear yourself?" I ask.

"Sometimes. Who else is there better to listen to than me?" asks Finnick.

"Anyone" we all say.

"Wow…harsh." Says Finnick.

_Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalties, more people would rick it if they had the weapons. But most are not bold enough to venture out with just a knife. My bow is a rarity, crafted by my father along with a few others that I keep well hidden, carefully wrapped in waterproof covers. My father would have made good money selling them, but if the officials found out he would have been publicly executed for inciting a rebellion. Most of the Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to the few of us who hunt because they're as hungry for fresh meat as anybody is. In fact, they're among our best customers. But the idea someone might be arming the Seam would never have been allowed._

"You're a criminal?" asks Finnick in disbelief.

"Technically, yes. If everyone wants to survive, then no." I say.

"You sell your illegal products to authority?" asks Rue, eyes wide.

"They have to survive too." I say defensively.

"Yes, and what better than to survive off illegal meat? I think I'll go get some right now. Katniss, may I borrow your bow?" he asks, before laughing.

"You know what? Sure. I'll get it, and then use it to shoot you." I say.

_In the fall, a few brave souls sneak into the woods to harvest apples. But always in sight of the Meadow. Always close enough to run back to the safety of District 12 if trouble arises. "District 12. Where you can starve to death in safety." I mutter. Then I glance quickly over my shoulder. Even here, even in the middle of nowhere, you worry someone might overhear you._

"Wow, the negativity is unbearable." Says Finnick dramatically

"What negativity?" I ask.

"Where you can starve to death in safety. Are you telling me that that's positive?"

"Haymitch, please check that list again. Are you sure he's on there?"

_When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt out about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol. Eventually I understood that this would only lead us to more trouble. So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts. Do my work quietly in school. Make only polite small talk in the public market. Discuss little more than trades in the Hob, which is the black market where I make most of my money, Even at home, where I am less pleasant-_

"WAIT! You're only less pleasant at home? I find that really hard to believe." Says Finnick.

"Did ANYONE ask for your opinion?" I ask.

"See? Unpleasant, right there!" he says

"SHUT UP!" I say.

_I avoid discussing tricky topics. Like the reaping, or food shortages, or the Hunger Games. Prim might begin to repeat my words, and then where would we be?_

"Some place better than here" Finnick mutters.

"Do you have an off button?" Peeta asks.

"No, because who would want that? I wish Hob over there would have one, though" he says.

I'm not even surprised when no one answers him.

_In the woods waits the only person who I can be myself with. Gale._

"If she's only herself with you, friend, than you must want to kill yourself." Says Finnick.

_I can feel the muscles in my face relaxing, my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place, a rock ledge overlooking a valley. A thicket of bushes protects it from unwanted eyes. The sight of him wanting there brings on a smile. Gale says I never smile except in the woods."Hey, Catnip" says Gale._

"Wait, what?" asks Johanna.

"Cat-nip" laughs Chaff, while Haymitch chuckles.

"I wonder who the cat is" says Rue.

"Catnip? Where the hell did Catnip come from? Really, what kind of name is Catnip?" asks Finnick. Right about now, he starts laughing.

"Catnip…." Mutters Peeta, so that no one can hear him. But I did.


	3. Chapter 3

_I did not steal my idea from anyone. Or anything. I really liked the idea, and I hope you all like the story! I do not own anything._

The Unspeakable...speaks.

"Is everyone done talking about Catnip yet? Or would you like to laugh some more?" I ask.

Everyone has been laughing for the past 10 minutes over the nickname "Catnip" that Gale gave me. Even Gale himself. The only ones that didn't laugh are me and Peeta. Peeta, I couldn't help but questioning. I wanted to know so much about him. Why? Beats me.

"Hey, let me read from here." Says Gale.

"Sure." I say, and pass him the book.

_My real name is Katniss, but when I first told him, I barely whispered it. So he thought I'd said Catnip. Then when this crazy lynx started following me around the woods looking for handouts, it became his official nickname for me. I finally had to kill the lynx because he scared off game. I almost regretted it because he wasn't bad company. But I got a decent price for his pelt._

"Of course. You just killed an animal and you care about the price you got for selling it? You sick excuse for a human being!" says Finnick.

"Excuse me?" says Peeta. Everyone starts to stare at him. "What? It's rude." He mutters, burying his face in his hands.

"_Look what I shot." Gale holds up a loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it, and I laugh._

"How is that funny? You cannot shoot bread." Says Johanna.

"Of course! The both of you only talk about what you shoot! Your worse than a rabid animal," says Finnick.

"Finnick, I'm being sincere. Please shut up." Katniss says.

_It's real bakery bread, not like the flat, dense loaves we make from our grain rations. I take it in my hands, pull out the arrow, and hold the puncture in the crust to my nose, inhaling the fragrance that makes my mouth flood with saliva._

"A little too much information. I wonder what she's going to say next. "I then sneezed all over the bread, causing it to moisten and my face muscles to easily form into a frown. I then opened my mouth to apologize, pronouncing every vowel, costannant, letter, syllable-"

"BLOW UP!" Katniss shouts.

"What the heck? Blow up? What does that even mean?" says Finnick.

"It means that I would like you to blow up. So please, go ahead."

"Wow, Catnip is sassy." He says.

"Shut up. Just shut up. Or else I will find the highest cliff in this place and push you off it."

"I can yell for the security."

"Do you not get it? You'd be dead!"

"Oh."

_Fine bread like this is for special occasions. "Mm, still warm." I say. He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to trade for it. "What did it cost you?" "Just a squirrel. _

"What did it cost you? Just a squirrel. That's it? Are you sure you didn't put a human in there too?" mocks Finnick.

"May I excuse myself?" Katniss asks. "I need to go and release my never-ending list of frustrations."

"No," Haymitch says, "You're staying put."

"Lovely." Katniss pouts.

_Think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning," says Gale. "Even wished me luck." "Well, we all feel a little closer today, don't we?" I say, not even bothering to roll my eyes. "Prim left us a cheese." I pull it out._

"What's "it"?" asks Finnick.

"The cheese." Rue responds.

"You don't say "a cheese" you say "cheese". "A cheese" sounds retarded. Haymitch, can you get me "a cheese "with "a cheese bread-" says Finnick.

"Ya, sure. Then I'll shove it up your "a cheese"-" starts Haymitch.

_His expression brightens at the treat. "Thank you, Prim. We'll have a real feast." Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket, the manically upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the reaping. "I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" He plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us. "And may the odds—"He tosses a berry in a high arc toward me._

"Happy Hunger Games?" questions Thresh, "Is there something wrong with you?"

"THANK YOU!" says Finnick, satisfied. "By the way, there's no telling if the mysterious berries are poisonous. Just saying,"

They have to hold Katniss back.

_I catch it in my mouth and break the delicate skin with my teeth. The sweet tartness explodes across my tongue. "—be _ever _in your favour!" I finish with equal verve. We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared out of your wits. Besides, the Capitol accent is so affected, almost anything sounds funny in it. I watch as Gale pulls out his knife-_

"And stabs her. End of story. By the way, why are you still alive?" asks Finnick.

This time she does get to him and kicks him hard in the shin. He yelps in pain and collapses in the mess beside him.

_-and slices the bread. He could be my brother. Straight black hair, olive skin, we even have the same gray eyes._

For some reason, the idea of this makes Peeta smile.

_But we're not related, at least not closely. Most of the families who work in the mines resemble one another in this way. That's why my mother and Prim, with their light hair and blue eyes, always look out of place. They are. My mother's parents were part of the small merchant class that caters to officials, Peacekeepers, and the occasional Seam customer. They ran an apothecary shop in the nicer part of District 12. Since almost no one can afford doctors, apothecaries are our healers. My father got to know my mother because on his hunts he would sometimes collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop to be brewed into remedies. She must have really loved him to leave her home for the Seam. I try to remember that when all I can see is the woman who sat by, blank and unreachable, while her children turned to skin and bones. I try to forgive her for my father's sake. But to be honest, I'm not the forgiving type._

"No, really?" Finnick yells from under the garbage pile he landed in.

"Blank and unreachable. She really did love him." Murmurs Peeta.

"Like father like daughter. You both love to kill things," says Johanna.

_Gale spreads the bread with soft goat cheese-_

"Goat cheese? As in cheese from a goat?" asks Finnick.

No one answers.

_Carefully placing a basil leaf on each while I strip-_

"Oooooo. What is going on here, young chickens?" asks Finnick.

"Young chickens. What the hell is a young chicken?" Gale asks.

"You and her."

_The bushes-_

"The bushes?" asks Finnick.

"SHUT UP!" everyone says.

_Of their berries. We settle back in a nook in the rocks. From this place, we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley, which is teeming with summer green life, greens to gather, roots to dig, fish iridescent in the sunlight. The day is glorious, with a blue sky and a soft breeze. The food's wonderful, with the cheese seeping into the warm bread and the berries bursting in our mouths. Everything would be perfect if this really was a holiday, if all the day off meant was roaming the mountains with Gale, hunting for tonight's supper. But instead we have to be standing in the square at two o'clock waiting for the names to be called out. "We could do it, you know" Gale says quietly._

Finnick is laughing so hard he looks like he might die from lack of oxygen.

"_What?" I ask. "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," says Gale. I don't know how to respond. The idea is so preposterous._

This makes Gale's face darken, and Peeta's face light up.

"_If we didn't have so many kids," he adds quickly._

This catches Peeta by surprise and he falls off his end of the couch.

_They're not out kids, of course. But they might as well be. Gale's two little brothers and a sister. Prim. And you may as well throw in our mothers, too, because how would they live without us? Who would fill those mouths that are always asking for more? With both of us hunting daily, there are still nights when game has to be swapped for lard or shoelaces or wool, still nights when we go to bed with our stomachs growling. "I never want to have kids," I say._

Finnick gasps dramatically, Peeta gets up, looking distressed, and Gale pouts.

"_I might. If I didn't live here," says Gale. "But you do," I say, irritated. "Forget it," he snaps back._

"Irritable, much." Says Finnick.

"What? I was just defending myself." Gale responds.

"Ya, like you were asking for something you know you couldn't have." Says Finnick.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but that is very true." Says Peeta.

"Shut up."

_The conversation feels all wrong. Leave? How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I'm certain that I love? And Gale is devoted to his family. We can't leave, so why bother talking about it? And even if we did….even if we did….where did this stuff come from about having kids? There's never been anything romantic between me and Gale._

"Really?" asks Peeta, causing Gale to glare at him first then Katniss.

"Ya, really Katniss?" Gales asks.

"Um, why don't you finish reading?" Katniss asks.

_When we met, I was a skinny twelve year old, and although he was only two years older, he already looked like a man. It took a long time for even us to become friends, to stop haggling over every trade and begin to help each other out._

"If there was something romantic between you two, then you have a sick, sick mind Galenip." Says Finnick.

"I second that." Peeta says with a smirk.

"Galenip?" says Gale.

_Besides, if he wants kids, Gale won't have any trouble finding a wife. He's good-looking, he's strong enough to handle the work in the mines, and he can hunt._

By this point, Peeta already fell off the couch again, and so did Finnick, but Finnick was laughing so hard that Chaff pushed him off.

_You can tell by the way the girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that they want him. It makes me jealous but not for the reason people would think. Good hunting partners are hard to find._

"Oh, Galenip, you just got turned down by someone you didn't even ask OUT!" says Finnick.

"If you don't shut up, I swear, I'll hit you so hard you'll see tomorrow." Gale says to Finnick.

"Try it. I dare you," Finnick mocks.

They have to hold him back.

"_What do you want to do" I ask. We can hunt, fish, or gather. "Let's fish at the lake. We can leave our poles and gather in the woods. Get something nice for tonight." He says. Tonight. After the reaping, everyone is supposed to celebrate. And a lot of people do, out of relief that their children have been spared for another year. But at least two families will pull their shutters, lock their doors, and try to figure out how they will survive the painful weeks to come. We make out well._

"WHAT!" Finnick shouts, falling face first off the couch.

Peeta is now glaring at Gale like he's some rotten piece of fish.

_The predators ignore us on a day when easier, tastier pre abounds. By late morning, we have a dozen fish, a bag of greens and, best of all, a gallon of strawberries. I found the patch a few years ago, but Gale had the idea to string mesh nets around it to keep out the animals. On the way home, we swing by the Hob, the black market that operates in an abandoned warehouse that once held coal. When they came up with a more efficient system that transported the coal directly from the mines to the trains, the Hob gradually took over the space. Most businesses are closed by this time on reaping day, but the black market's still fairly busy. We easily trade six of the fish for good bread, the other two for salt. Greasy Sae, the bony old woman who sells bowls of hot soup from a large kettle, takes half the greens off our hands in exchange for a couple of chunks of paraffin. We might do a tad better elsewhere, but we make an effort to keep on good terms with Greasy Sae. She's the only one who can consistently be counted on to buy wild dog. We don't hunt them on purpose, but if you're attacked and you take out a dog or two, well, meat is meat. "Once it's in the soup, I'll call it beef," Greasy Sae says with a wink. No one in the Seam would turn up their nose at a good leg of wild dog, but the Peacekeepers who come to the Hob can afford to be a little choosier._

"Greasy Sae? To make soup like that, she must be psychotic "Sae". Wild dog…HA!" says Johanna

"The Hob. Ha, the Hob." Says Thresh

Finnick has broken out into another set of laughter, and Peeta is staring at Katniss with a shocked face.

_When we finish our business at the market, we go to the back door of the mayor's house to sell half the strawberries, knowing he has a particular fondness for them and can afford our price. The mayor's daughter, Madge, opens the door. She's in my year at school. Being the mayor's daughter, you'd expect her to be a snob, but she's all right. She just keeps to herself. Like me. Since neither of us really has a group of friends, we seem to end up together a lot at school. Eating lunch, sitting next to each other at assemblies, partnering for sports activities. We rarely talk, which suits us both just fine._

"What about Galenip, over here, or Peetanip, over there? Are they not your friends?" asks Finnick, innocently.

"Shut up, shut up! Do they look like girls to you?"

"Well, Peetanip doesn't, but Galenip could easily pass for a Galerella."

This time I wish he had gotten to Finnick.

"You sell your illegal products to authority?" asks Rue, eyes wide.

"There just strawberries." Katniss says defensively.

No one notices that Haymitch and Chaff are asleep and drunk until they both snore loudly. Peeta nudges them and they both are so alarmed that they jump on top of the couch.

_Today her drab school outfit-_

"Well, isn't that nice to call someone's outfit. Drab. Katniss, you look extremely drab today." Says Finnick.

_-has been replaced by an expensive white dress, and her blonde hair is done up with a pink ribbon. Reaping clothes._

"They have clothes for the reaping. That's rich." Says Johanna.

"_Pretty dress," says Gale. _

"Galenip has a crush, don't you Galenip? Sorry Catnip, looks like you've been outdone by an expensive white dress." Says Finnick.

_Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if it's a genuine compliment or if he's just being ironic._

"Ironic, Madnip, IRONIC!" Finnick shouts at the book.

_It is a pretty dress, but she would never be wearing it ordinarily. She presses her lips together and then smiles. "Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" Now it's Gale's turn to be confused._

"Ya, understandable. He's easily confused." Says Finnick.

_Does she mean it? Or is she messing with him? I'm guessing the second._

"Catnip is a smart lynx catcher, isn't she, you young chicken." Says Finnick.

"_You won't be going to the Capitol," says Gale coolly. His eyes land on a small, circular pin that adorns her dress. Real gold. Beautifully crafted. It could keep a family in bread for months. "What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."_

"There he goes, bragging" says Johanna.

"Catnip doesn't appreciate the beauty of the pin, no how ridiculous is that! She just wants to sell it for bread." Says Finnick

"_That's not her fault," I say. "No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," says Gale. Madge's face has become closed off. She puts the money for the berries in my hand. "Good luck, Katniss." "You, too," I say, and the door closes._

"You rude Galenip. You didn't even get a good luck!" says Finnick.

_We walk toward the Seam in silence. I don't like that Gale took a dig at Madge, but he's right, of course. The reaping system is unfair, with the poor getting the worst of it. You become eligible for the reaping the day you turn twelve. That year, your name is entered once. At thirteen, twice. And so on and so on until you reach the age of eighteen, the final year of eligibility, when your name goes into the pool seven times. That's true for every citizen in all twelve districts in the entire country of Panem._ _But here's the catch. Say you are poor and starving as we were._

"How are you poor and starving! As far as I hear, you go on a happy-go-hunting with wild dog and rabbits and eat them after! How thoughtful of you!" Finnick says.

Katniss, Gale, and Peeta don't say anything. They just would really like to punch him out.

_You can opt to add your name more times in exchange for tesserae. Each tessera is worth a meager year's supply of grain and oil for one person. You may do this for each of your family members as well. So, at the age of twelve, I had my name entered four times. Once, because I had to, and three times for tesserae for grain and oil for myself, Prim, and my mother. In fact, every year I have needed to do this. And the entries are cumulative. So now, at the age of sixteen, my name will be in the reaping twenty times. Gale, who is eighteen and has been either helping or single-handedly feeding a family of five for seven years, will have his name in forty-two times._

"The suspense!" shouts Finnick.

"I second that." Says Peeta.

"You both shut up." Says Gale.

"Likewise. Except just you." Says Peeta.

"You go, Peetanip." Says Finnick.

"Shut up." Peeta says.

_You can see why someone like Madge, who has never been at risk of needing a tessera, can set him off. The chance of her name being drawn is very slim compared to those of us who live in the Seam._

"Again with her precious Seam. There are kids in other Districts starving without food you know!" says Finnick.

"Get out." Says Katniss.

_Not impossible, but slim. And even though the rules were set up by the Capitol, not the districts, certainly not Madge's family, it's hard not to resent those who don't have to sign up for tesserae._ _Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. On other days, deep in the woods, I've listened to him rant-_

Finnick has started to laugh again, and so as Peeta, so both of their faces are red. So is Gale's but that's just out of embarrassment.

_-about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. "It's to the Capitol's advantage to have us divided among ourselves," he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine._

"And the rest of this oval's ear also." Says Finnick.

"Oval?" asks Rue.

"Well, were not in a circle, so an oval." He responds.

_If it wasn't reaping day. If a girl with a gold pin and no tesserae had not made what I'm sure she thought was a harmless comment._

"If Galenip decides not to rant about how life isn't fair, genius. Cause it never is!" says Johanna.

_As we walk, I glance over at Gale's face, still smoldering underneath his stony expression. His rages seem pointless to me, although I never say so. It's not that I don't agree with him. I do. But what good is yelling about the Capitol in the middle of the woods? It doesn't change anything. It doesn't make things fair. It doesn't fill our stomachs. In fact, it scares off the nearby game. I let him yell though._

"I'd run away too, if I were game. "I hate the Capitol, blah, blab, My life sucks, blah, I need grain, blah, I'm fat, blah, blah, BLAH" says Finnick.

_Better he does it in the woods than in the district. Gale and I divide our spoils, leaving two fish, a couple of loaves of good bread, greens, a quart of strawberries, salt, paraffin, and a bit of money for each. "See you in the square," I say. "Wear something pretty," he says flatly._

"Ooo, Galenip's got a crush!" says Johanna.

"I'd be pretty would be going stark naked" says Finnick.

"Shut UP!" yells Gale.

_At home, I find my mother and sister are ready to go. My mother wears a fine dress from her apothecary days. Prim is in my first reaping outfit, a skirt and ruffled blouse._

_It's a bit big on her, but my mother has made it stay with pins. Even so, she's having trouble keeping the blouse tucked in at the back. A tub of warm water waits for me. I scrub off the dirt and sweat from the woods and even wash my hair. To my surprise, my mother has laid out one of her own lovely dresses for me. A soft blue thing with matching shoes._

"Poor Catnip isn't used to things like that, now is she?" says Finnick.

"_Are you sure?" I ask. I'm trying to get past rejecting offers of help from her. For a while, I was so angry, I wouldn't allow her to do anything for me. And this is something special. Her clothes from her past are very precious to her. "Of course. Let's put your hair up, too," she says. I let her towel-dry it and braid it up on my head._

Gale and Peeta have a sudden interest with their feet while Finnick's eyes are bulging out of his head from laughing.

_I can hardly recognize myself in the cracked mirror that leans against the wall. "You look beautiful," says Prim in a hushed voice._

"You always do…."Peeta mumbles.

"_And nothing like myself," I say._

"There she goes again with the negativity! I swear whenever you walk, a rainstorm hits another district." Says Finnick.

_I hug her, because I know these next few hours will be terrible for her. Her first reaping. She's about as safe as you can get, since she's only entered once. I wouldn't let her take out any tesserae. But she's worried about me. That the unthinkable might happen. I protect Prim in every way I can, but I'm powerless against the reaping. The anguish I always feel when she's in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my face. I notice her blouse has pulled out of her skirt in the back again and force myself to stay calm. "Tuck your tail in, little duck," I say, smoothing the blouse back in place._

"Did you just call her a duck?" asks Chaff.

"A duck. Wow. Catnip can hug?" says Finnick.

_Prim giggles and gives me a small "Quack." "Quack yourself," I say with a light laugh. The kind only Prim can draw out of me. "Come on, let's eat," I say and plant a quick kiss on the top of her head. The fish and greens are already cooking in a stew, but that will be for supper. We decide to save the strawberries and bakery bread for this evening's meal, to make it special we say. Instead we drink milk from Prim's goat, Lady, and eat the rough bread made from the tessera grain, although no one has much appetite anyway._

"Catnip can laugh too. Wow. What has happened to this world?" asks Finnick.

_At one o'clock, we head for the square. Attendance is mandatory unless you are on death's door. This evening, officials will come around and check to see if this is the case. If not, you'll be imprisoned. It's too bad, really, that they hold the reaping in the square — one of the few places in District 12 that can be pleasant._

"We get shot" says Finnick, "What about the woods? Can't they be pleasant?" he asks.

_The square's surrounded by shops, and on public= market days, especially if there's good weather, it has a holiday feel to it. But today, despite the bright banners hanging on the buildings, there's an air of grimness. The camera crews, perched like buzzards on rooftops, only add to the effect. People file in silently and sign in. The reaping is a good opportunity for the Capitol to keep tabs on the population as well. Twelve- through eighteen-year-olds are herded-_

"She talks of them like their cows. Being herded in" says Johanna.

_-the young ones, like Prim, toward the back. Family members line up around the perimeter, holding tightly to one another's hands. But there are others, too, who have no one they love at stake, or who no longer care, who slip among the crowd, taking bets on the two kids whose names will be drawn. Odds are given on their ages, whether they're Seam or merchant, if they will break down and weep. Most refuse dealing with the racketeers but carefully, carefully. These same people tend to be informers, and who hasn't broken the law?_

"I don't know. Really. NORMAL PEOPLE!" shouts Finnick.

_I could be shot on a daily basis for hunting, but the appetites of those in charge protect me. Not everyone can claim the same._ _Anyway, Gale and I agree that if we have to choose between dying of hunger and a bullet in the head, the bullet would be much quicker. The space gets tighter, more claustrophobic as people arrive. The square's quite large, but not enough to hold District 12's population of about eight thousand. Latecomers are directed to the adjacent streets, where they can watch the event on screens as it's televised live by the state. I find myself standing in a clump of sixteens from the Seam. We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building. It holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass balls, one for the boys and one for the girls. I stare at the paper slips in the girls' ball. Twenty of them have Katniss Everdeen written on them in careful handwriting. Two of the three chairs fill with Madge's father, Mayor Undersee, who's a tall, balding man, and Effie Trinket, District 12's escort, fresh from the Capitol with her scary white grin, pinkish hair, and spring green suit. They murmur to each other and then look with concern at the empty seat. Just as the town clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. It's the same story every year. He tells of the history of Panem, the country that roseup out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained. The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games._

"Oh, yay. Interesting. Please, tell me more so I can fall asleep." Says Finnick.

"Same here" says Johanna, pretending to nod.

We've all heard this before.

_The rules of the Hunger Games are simple. In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate. The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland. Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins. Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch — this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion. Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen."_

Finnick's face was pale, along with everyone else's. No one liked the Hunger Games. Who could?

_To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others. The last tribute alive receives a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation. "It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," intones the mayor. Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In seventy-four years, we have had exactly two. Only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged man, who at this moment appears hollering something unintelligible, staggers onto the stage, and falls into the third chair. He's drunk. Very._

"How nice is that! I am not paunchy. I am drunk, but not paunchy."

"Really, because I'm seeing a lot of 'paunchy' here." Says Finnick.

_The crowd responds with its token applause, but he's confused and tries to give Effie Trinket a big hug, which she barely manages to fend off. The mayor looks distressed. Since all of this is being televised, right now District 12 is the laughingstock of Panem, and he knows it. He quickly tries to pull the attention back to the reaping by introducing Effie Trinket. Bright and bubbly as ever, Effie Trinket trots-_

"Is she a horse?" asks Finnick.

"NO!" shouts everyone.

_to the podium and gives her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Her pink hair must be a wig because her curls have shifted slightly offcenter since her encounter with Haymitch. She goes on a bit about what an honor it is to be here, although everyone knows she's just aching to get bumped up to a better district where they have proper victors, not drunks who molest you in front of the entire nation. Through the crowd, I spot Gale looking back at me_

"Of course he is" says Finnick, causing Gale to glare at him.

_with a ghost of a smile. As reapings go, this one at least has a slight entertainment factor. But suddenly I am thinking of Gale and his forty-two names in that big glass ball and how the odds are not in his favor. Not compared to a lot of the boys. And maybe he's thinking the same thing about me because his face darkens and he turns away. "But there are still thousands of slips," I wish I could whisper to him. It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always does, "Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. She reaches in, digs her hand deep into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop, and I'm feeling nauseous and so desperately hoping that it's not me, that it's not me, that it's not me. Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it's not me._

Everyone releases their breath, but Finnick is still waiting.

_It's Primrose Everdeen._


	4. Chapter 4

_I did not steal my idea from anyone. Or anything. I really liked the idea, and I hope you all like the story! I do not own anything._

Falling out of a tree just because.

_One time, when I was in a blind in a tree,_

"Wait, repeat that?" asks Haymitch.

"You were blind…..in a tree. And you were in the tree? Are you _physco_?" asks Finnick.

_Waiting motionless for game to wander by, I dozed off and fell ten feet to the ground, landing on my back._

"Serves you right" mutters Finnick, "it takes you to fall out of a tree to finally see the light of things. You simply can't doze off…in a tree."

"Do you ALWAYS have to add something?" says Peeta.

"Yes. Yes, I do. Because the world wouldn't be the same if they didn't hear my voice at least once a day" says Finnick.

_It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from my lungs, and I lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. That's how I feel now, trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally stunned as the name bounces around the inside of my skull._

"Thanks for ruining the effect. Words don't bounce around in your head. Or skull. Whatever terminology you used, I have to say that I couldn't possibly care less." Says Finnick.

"There he goes again. You know, I think in terms of pathetic-ness, you would be a way better narrator that Suzie Colins." Says Katniss.

"Do you know how to read?" asks Finnick.

"If not, would I have been able to read the first chapter? I think that the Capitol makes you seem 10 times smarter than you actually are." Says Katniss.

"No, the Capitol demeans me in ways that you would never understand." Says Finnick simply.

_Someone is gripping my arm, a boy from the Seam, and I think maybe I started to fall and he caught me._

"Does it manage to specify who the boy from the Seam is?" asks Peeta.

"No. Just someone to help me from falling. Why, is there a problem?" asks Katniss.

"No…no. Of course not. Why would there be a problem? Just some random person catches you when you fall and you don't remember his name. Real sweet. I would love that. Fall, will you, so that I can catch you. By the way, what's my name?" asks Peeta.

"I think you know" is all she says.

_There must have been some mistake. This can't be happening. Prim was one slip of paper in thousands!_

"Brilliant, brilliant yet INCREDIBLY stupid Katniss. Have you ever heard of something call odds? There not normally in people's favour. And since you are some inhumane, selfish person, their definitely NOT in your favour! Simple, I hope." Says Finnick.

They have to hold her back. After she kicks him. He screams in pain and falls, face first, into a new and more disgusting pile of garbage. He starts cursing her while buried in the pile.

_Her chances of being chosen were so remote that I'd not even bothered to worry about her._

Finnick gets up, spits out a molded piece of bread, and glares with hatred at Katniss.

"Selfish Katniss. Not even bothering to worry about her sister. Prim, how are you still sane?" asks Finnick.

_Hadn't I done everything? Taken the tesserae, refused to let her do the same? One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favour. But it hadn't mattered. Somewhere far away, I can hear the crowd murmuring unhappily, as they always do when a twelve-year-old gets chosen, because no one thinks this is fair. And then I see her, the blood drained from her face, hands clenched in fists at her sides, walking with stiff, small steps up towards the stage, passing me, and I see the back of her blouse has become untucked and hangs out over her skirt. It's this detail, the untucked blouse forming a duck's tail, that brings me back to myself. "Prim!" The strangled cry comes out of my throat, and my muscles begin to move again._

"What muscles?" cries Finnick.

"SHUT UP!" everyone yells.

"It takes an untucked shirt to bring you back to reality? Are you that lost?" complains Finnick.

Everyone hits him at the same time, causing him to yelp like a girl in pain, and gets pushed off the couch entirely into a garbage pile.

"_Prim!" I don't need to shove through the crowd. The other kids make way immediately, allowing me a straight path to the stage. I reach her just as she is about to mount the steps. With one sweep of my arm, I push her behind me._

"And she falls off the stage, into her death. You know, you and your incredibly stupid self just saved Prim from dying an even more painful death in the Hunger Games. And ruining her possible chance of survival. Cruelty. You know what, your such a wonderful person, I should give you a nice, WONDERFUL slap in the face." Says Finnick.

As response to this, Peeta whacks him in the head with the next book in the series, Catching Fire, and he falls behind the couch.

"_I volunteer!" I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!"_

"You do WHAT!" yells Peeta.

"You idiot!" yells Gale.

"I'm a what?" yells Katniss.

"A volunteer, huh? My future amazing self must be exploding inside" says Haymitch.

"She volunteered? Yup, she's physco." Says Thresh.

"Why did she do it? Why?" pleads Rue.

"Your nuts!" yells Chaff.

The only one who hasn't replied is Finnick.

"You see! I told you all how much of an idiot she is. Oh, how I love being right." Says Finnick.

"Shut UP you buttface" yells Katniss.

"I'm a WHAT? You're the complete and utter IDIOT! I *gasp, gasp* volunteer *gasp, gasp* as *gasp, gasp* tribute *gasp, gasp* where's the cliff?" says Finnick.

"!" says Katniss angrily.

"WHAT? I can't hear you over that NONSENSE."

Finnick just got thrown out of a window.

"YOU IDIOT! NOW I'M COVERED IN DIRT! I WILL SUE!"

"FOR WHAT?"

"FOR EXISTING!"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST DIE!"

_There's some confusion on the stage._

"NO, REALLY?" Finnick yells from outside.

"Will you SHUT UP?" yells Katniss.

"NO!" he yells back.

_District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in decades and the protocol has become rusty. The rule is that once a tribute's name has been pulled from the ball, another eligible boy, if a boy's name has been read, or girl, if a girl's name has been read, can step forward to take his or her place. In some districts, in which winning the reaping is such a great honour, people are eager to risk their lives, and the volunteering is complicated. But in District 12, where the word tribute is pretty much synonymous with the word corpse, volunteers are all but extinct.  
><em> 

"AND YOU WENT TO GO AND RUIN IT! WHY DO YOU EXIST?" yells Finnick, "CAN SOMEONE LET ME BACK IN?"

"NO" we all yell back.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? NEVER MIND. IT SMELLS WAY BETTER OUT HERE. AND YOU CAN'T DIE FROM SOME UNKNOWN DISEASE OUT HERE. WELL, MAYBE YOU CAN. IT IS THE HOARDER'S PROPERTY-"

"I'M A WHAT!" yells Haymitch.

"I'M SORRY, DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME? A HOARDER!" yells Finnick.

"_Lovely!" says Effie Trinket. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um. . ." She trails off, unsure herself. "What does it matter?"_

"YA, GALENIP? WHAT DOES IT MATTER? THE LOVE YOUR LIFE IS GOING TO HER DEATH, BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER. NO, OF COURSE NOT. HOW COULD I BE SO-" says Finnick.

"SHUT UP!" Gale yells back.

_says the mayor. He's looking at me with a pained expression on his face._

"I KNOW, SHE'S TOO UGLY TO LOOK AT. AT LEAST WERE ON THE SAME PAGE!" yells Finnick.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" yells Peeta.

_He doesn't know me really, but there's a faint recognition there. I am the girl who brings the strawberries. The girl his daughter might have spoken of on occasion. The girl who five years ago stood huddled with her mother and sister, as he presented her, the oldest child, with a medal of valour. A medal for her father, vaporized in the mines. Does he remember that? "What does it matter?" he repeats gruffly._

"GRUFFLY? AM I HEARING RIGHT? OR DID THE MULTIPLE FALLS AND THROWS OUT THE WINDOW DAMAGE MY HEARING? YET ANOTHER REASON TO SUE!" yells Finnick.

"_Let her come forward." Prim is screaming hysterically behind me._

"SAYING YES THANK YOU SHE'S FINALLY OUT OF MY LIFE! I'M FREE. I'D DO THE SAME THING" Finnick yells.

"NO ONE CARES!" Katniss yells back.

_She's wrapped her skinny arms around me like a vice. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" "Prim, let go," I say harshly, because this is upsetting me and I don't want to cry. When they televise the replay of the reapings tonight, everyone will make note of my tears, and I'll be marked as an easy target. A weakling._

"THEY WILL ANYWAY! CAUSE YOU ARE ONE! THERE'S NO DENYING THE TRUTH!" yells Finnick.

"I AM? YOU'RE THE ONE WHO LET THEMSELVES GET PUSHED OUT A WINDOW!" yells Katniss.

"I DIDN'T LET MYSELF. I WAS FORCED!" yells Finnick.

_I will give no one that satisfaction. "Let go!" I can feel someone pulling her from my back. I turn and see Gale has lifted Prim off the ground and she's thrashing in his arms. "Up you go, Catnip," he says, in a voice he's fighting to keep steady,_

"FROM EXCITEMENT! YOU GO, GALENIP" yells Finnick, running in circles outside.

"ONE MORE AND I'M CALLING THE PEACEKEEPERS!" yells Gale.

"SO WHAT? THEY CAN'T HARM ME. I'M NOT FROM THEIR DISTRICT! HA! JOKES ON YOU, IDIOT!" yells Finnick.

_and then he carries Prim off towards my mother. I steel myself and climb the steps. "Well, bravo!" gushes Effie Trinket. "That's the spirit of the Games!" She's pleased to finally have a district with a little action going on in it. "What's your name?" I swallow hard. "Katniss Everdeen," I say. "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?_

"ANOTHER IDIOT? WHAT KIND OF POOR EXCUSE FOR A STORY IS THIS?" yells Finnick.

"REALLY? CAUSE T DOESN'T HAVE YOU IN IT," yells Katniss.

"EXACTLY. THAT'S WHY ITS SUCH A POOR EXCUSE." Yells Finnick.

_Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" trills Effie Trinket. To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly because they know me from the Hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, whom no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence._

"THEIR PROBABLY HOLDING BACK LAUGHS" says Finnick.

"NO, BECAUSE NOT EVERYONE ISN'T AS PATHETIC AS YOU ARE!" Katniss yells.

"PATHETIC? ME? YOU!" Finnick yells.

_Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong._

"I KN0W!" Finnick yells.

"WHAT? REALLY?" Katniss yells.

"THE FACT THAT YOU WERE BORN IS WRONG!"

_Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me._

"CAUSE NOTHING AND NO ONE DOES!" yells Finnick.

"YOU'D REALLY LIKE TO DIE, WOULDN'T YOU?" yells Peeta.

"TRUTHFULLY, NOT REALLY!" Finnick yells back.

_But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love._

"ARE YOU SURE ITS TO YOU AND NOT THE HORSE IN THE BACKGROUND?" yells Finnick.

"WHAT HORSE?" Katniss yells.

"EFF SHRINK" yells Finnick.

"SHE'S NOT A HORSE!' Katniss yells back.

_Now I am truly in danger of crying, but fortunately Haymitch chooses this time to come staggering across the stage to congratulate me. "Look at her. Look at this one!" he hollers, throwing an arm around my shoulders. He's surprisingly strong for such a wreck. "I like her!" His breath reeks of liquor and it's been a long time since he's bathed. "Lots of. . ." He can't think of the word for a while. "Spunk!"_

"SPUNK? SHE HAS SPUNK? SHE COULDN'T HAVE SPUNK IF HER LIFE DEPENDED ON IT! A TRASH CAN HAS MORE SPUNK THAN HER!" yells Finnick.

"YA? WELL THIS GARBAGE PILE IS HANDSOMER THAN YOU ARE!" yells Katniss.

"REALLY? CAUSE THAT GARBAGE PILE IS YOU!" yells Finnick.

_he says triumphantly. "More than you!" He releases me and starts for the front of the stage. "More than you!" he shouts, pointing directly into a camera. Is he addressing the audience or is he so drunk he might actually be taunting the Capitol? I'll never know_

"COURSE YOU WON'T! TOO MUCH TO PROCESS FOR KATNISS!" yells Finnick.

_because just as he's opening his mouth to continue, Haymitch plummets off the stage and knocks himself unconscious. He's disgusting, but I'm grateful. With every camera gleefully trained on him, I have just enough time to release the small, choked sound in my throat and compose myself. I put my hands behind my back and stare into the distance. I can see the hills I climbed this morning with Gale. For a moment, I yearn for something . . . the idea of us leaving the district . . . making our way in the woods . . ._

"OOO, PEETANIP JUST GOT NEGLECTED. OHHHH, DAMN!" yells Finnick.

Peeta is beet red. "WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP!" he yells.

"THAT IS JUST OUT OF PAIN! YOU NEED ME TO COMFORT YOU!" Finnick yells.

_but I know I was right about not running off. Because who else would have volunteered for Prim? Haymitch is whisked away on a stretcher, and Effie Trinket is trying to get the ball rolling again. "What an exciting day!" she warbles as she attempts to straighten her wig, which has listed severely to the right. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Clearly hoping to contain her tenuous hair situation, she plants one hand on her head as she crosses to the ball that contains the boys' names and grabs the first slip she encounters. She zips back to the podium, and I don't even have time to wish for Gale's safety when she's reading the name. "Peeta Mellark." Peeta Mellark!_

"NO!" yells Peeta.

"OH, SHIT! WHAT HAPPENED? NOT PEETANIP! KILL KATNISS, BUT NOT HIM! I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO KNOW HIS ANNOYING SELF! HE WAS SO YOUNG!" Finnick cries.

"WHAT?" yells Gale, "So, you both are in The Hunger Games. Swell. Really. I'm so happy." Gale says.

"I CAN TELL," yells Finnick, "JEALOUS, MUCH?"

"NEVER!" yells Gale.

_Oh, no, I think. Not him. Because I recognize this name, although I have never spoken directly to its owner. Peeta Mellark._

"OH NO, PEETANIP! WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT?" yells Finnick.

_No, the odds are not in my favour today. I watch him as he makes his way towards the stage. Medium height, stocky build, ashy blond hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the moment is registering on his face, you can see his struggle to remain emotionless, but his blue eyes show the alarm I've seen so often in prey. Yet he climbs steadily on to the stage and takes his place._

"OH, THE SEXY WAY SHE DESCRIBES HIM! CATNIP AND PEETANIP SITTING IN A TREE IN THE HUNGER GAMES. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. FIRST COMES MAKING GALENIP PUKE, THEN COMES WATCHING HAYMITCH PUKE-" sings Finnick.

"SHUT UP" they all yell.

"JUST THE SHOCK OF THE MOMENT." Finnick yells.

_Effie Trinket asks for volunteers, but no one steps forward. He has two older brothers, I know, I've seen them in the bakery, but one is probably too old now to volunteer and the other won't. This is standard. Family devotion only goes so far for most people on reaping day. What I did was the radical thing. The mayor begins to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason as he does every year at this point – it's required – but I'm not listening to a word. Why him? I think._

"WHY HIM? WHY YOU!" yells Finnick.

"You've been to the bakery before?" asks Peeta curiously, clearly hiding all of his emotions.

"Ya, who hasn't?" says Katniss.

"OOO, THE SPARKS ARE FLYING." Yells Finnick.

"WHAT SPARKS?" yells Gale.

_Then I try to convince myself it doesn't matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbours. We don't speak. Our only real interaction happened years ago. He's probably forgotten it. But I haven't and I know I never will. . ._

"OH, WHAT DID YOU YOUNG CHICKENS DO?" yells Finnick.

"Ya, pshh, we're not friends. What a ridiculous thought?" Peeta says.

"OH, YOU HURT HIM! APOLOGIZE CATNIP!" yells Finnick.

_It was during the worst time. My father had been killed in the mine accident three months earlier in the bitterest January anyone could remember. The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. Where are you? I would cry out in my mind. Where have you gone?_

"I DON'T KNOW, TO THE LAND OF THE DEAD?" yells Finnick.

"CAN YOU SHUT UP?" yells Katniss.

"NOT AT THIS SUSPENSEFUL MOMENT!" yells Finnick.

_Of course, there was never any answer. The district had given us a small amount of money as compensation for his death, enough to cover one month of grieving, after which time my mother would be expected to get a job. Only she didn't. She didn't do anything but sit propped up in a chair or, more often, huddled under the blankets on her bed, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Once in a while, she'd stir, get up as if moved by some urgent purpose, only to then collapse back into stillness. No amount of pleading from Prim seemed to affect her. I was terrified. I suppose now that my mother was locked in some dark world of sadness, but at the time, all I knew was that I had lost not only a father, but a mother as well. At eleven years old, with Prim just seven, I took over as head of the family. There was no choice. I bought our food at the market and cooked it as best I could and tried to keep Prim and myself looking presentable. Because if it had become known that my mother could no longer care for us, the district would have taken us away from her and placed us in the community home. I'd grown up seeing those home kids at school. The sadness, the marks of angry hands on their faces, the hopelessness that curled their shoulders forward. I could never let that happen to Prim. Sweet, tiny Prim who cried when I cried before she even knew the reason, who brushed and plaited my mother's hair before we left for school, who still polished my father's shaving mirror each night because he'd hated the layer of coal dust that settled on everything in the Seam. The community home would crush her like a bug. So I kept our predicament a secret._

"FINALLY, SHE SOES SOMETHING SOMEWHAT SMART!" yells Finnick.

"WHY THANK YOU." Yells Katniss.

_But the money ran out and we were slowly starving to death. There's no other way to put it. I kept telling myself if I could only hold out until May, just the eighth of May, I would turn twelve and be able to sign up for the tesserae and get that precious grain and oil to feed us. Only there were still several weeks to go. We could well be dead by then. Starvation's not an uncommon fate in District 12. Who hasn't seen the victims? Older people who can't work. Children from a family with too many to feed. Those injured in the mines. Straggling through the streets. And one day, you come upon them sitting motionless against a wall or lying in the Meadow, you hear the wails from a house, and the Peacekeepers are called in to retrieve the body. Starvation is never the cause of death officially. It's always the flu, or exposure, or pneumonia. But that fools no one. On the afternoon of my encounter with Peeta Mellark, the rain was falling in relentless icy sheets. I had been in town, trying to trade some threadbare old baby clothes of Prim's in the public market, but there were no takers. Although I had been to the Hob on several occasions with my father, I was too frightened to venture into that rough, gritty place alone. The rain had soaked through my father's hunting jacket, leaving me chilled to the bone. For three days, we'd had nothing but boiled water with some old dried mint leaves I'd found in the back of a cupboard. By the time the market closed, I was shaking so hard I dropped my bundle of baby clothes in a muddy puddle. I didn't pick it up for fear I would keel over and be unable to regain my feet. Besides, no one wanted those clothes. I couldn't go home. Because at home was my mother with her dead eyes and my little sister, with her hollow cheeks and cracked lips. I couldn't walk into that room with the smoky fire from the damp branches I had scavenged at the edge of the woods after the coal had run out, my hands empty of any hope. I found myself stumbling along a muddy lane behind the shops that serve the wealthiest townspeople. The merchants live above their businesses, so I was essentially in their back gardens. I remember the outlines of garden beds not yet planted for the spring, a goat or two in a pen, one sodden dog tied to a post, hunched defeated in the muck. All forms of stealing are forbidden in District 12. Punishable by death. But it crossed my mind that there might be something in the rubbish bins, and those were fair game. Perhaps a bone at the butcher's or rotted vegetables at the grocer's, something no one but my family was desperate enough to eat. Unfortunately, the bins had just been emptied. When I passed the baker's,_

"I HAVE A FEELING THIS IS WHERE OUR DEAR MR. MELLARK COMES IN" yells Finnick.

"SURE IS." Yells Peeta.

_the smell of fresh bread was so overwhelming I felt dizzy. The ovens were in the back, and a golden glow spilled out of the open kitchen door. I stood mesmerized by the heat and the luscious scent until the rain interfered, running its icy fingers down my back, forcing me back to life. I lifted the lid to the baker's rubbish bin and found it spotlessly, heartlessly bare. Suddenly a voice was screaming at me and I looked up to see the baker's wife, telling me to move on and did I want her to call the Peacekeepers and how sick she was of having those brats from the Seam pawing through her rubbish. The words were ugly and I had no defence. As I carefully replaced the lid and backed away, I noticed him, a boy with blond hair peering out from behind his mother's back._

"I'M STARTING TO LIKE THIS BAKER'S WIFE/MOTHER CHARACTER. IF THEY WERE TO MAKE A VIDEO OUT OF HER, I'D SO WANNA PLAY HER" yells Finnick.

"YA, YOU'D MAKE A GOOD MIDDLEAGED WOMAN" yells Peeta.

"THANKS-HEY, WAIT!" yells Finnick, "THIS IS WHERE PEETANIP COMES IN, ISN'T IT?"

"YUP!" Katniss yells.

_I'd seen him at school. He was in my year, but I didn't know his name. He stuck with the town kids, so how would I? His mother went back into the bakery, grumbling, but he must have been watching me as I made my way behind the pen that held their pig and leaned against the far side of an old apple tree. The realization that I'd have nothing to take home had finally sunk in. My knees buckled and I slid down the tree trunk to its roots. It was too much. I was too sick and weak and tired, oh, so tired. Let them call the Peacekeepers and take us to the community home, I thought. Or better yet, let me die right here in the rain._

"WELL, THAT'S A POSITIVE WAY TO THINK." Yells Finnick, "BUT THEN AGAIN, WHEN HAVE WE KNOWN CATNIP TO BE POSITIVE?"

"I WAS DYING IN THE RAIN! WAS I SUPPOSED TO BE JOYFUL?" Katniss yells.

"COULD'VE THOUGHT BETTER!" he yells.

_There was a clatter in the bakery and I heard the woman screaming again and the sound of a blow, and I vaguely wondered what was going on. Feet sloshed towards me through the mud and I thought, It's her. She's coming to drive me away with a stick. But it wasn't her._

"AWW, THAT'S A SHAME. I REALLY WANTED TO SEE CATNIP GET DRIVEN AWAY BY A STICK." Yells Finnick.

_It was the boy. In his arms, he carried two large loaves of bread that must have fallen into the fire because the crusts were scorched black. His mother was yelling, "Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!"_

"YA, YOU STUPID CREATURE!" yells Finnick.

"I'M SORRY, YOU MUST BE MISTAKENING ME FOR YOURSELF!" yells Peeta.

"NO, I WAS PRETTY POSITIVE ABOUT YOU!" yells Finnick.

_He began to tear off chunks from the burned parts and toss them into the trough, and the front bakery bell rung and the mother disappeared to help a customer. The boy never even glanced my way, but I was watching him. Because of the bread, because of the red weal that stood out on his cheekbone. What had she hit him with?_

"THE STICK THAT SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO HIT YOU WITH!" yells Finnick.

_My parents never hit us. I couldn't even imagine it. The boy took one look back at the bakery as if checking that the coast was clear, then, his attention back on the pig, he threw a loaf of bread in my direction. The second quickly followed, and he sloshed back to the bakery, closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. I stared at the loaves in disbelief. They were fine, perfect really, except for the burned areas. Did he mean for me to have them?_

"NO, HE MEANT FOR THE CHICKENS NEXT TO YOU TO HAVE THEM. YES YOU!" yells Finnick.

_He must have. Because there they were at my feet. Before anyone could witness what had happened I shoved the loaves up under my shirt, wrapped the hunting jacket tightly about me, and walked swiftly away. The heat of the bread burned into my skin, but I clutched it tighter, clinging to life. By the time I reached home, the loaves had cooled somewhat, but the insides were still warm. When I dropped them on the table, Prim's hands reached to tear off a chunk, but I made her sit, forced my mother to join us at the table, and poured warm tea. I scraped off the black stuff and sliced the bread. We ate an entire loaf, slice by slice. It was good hearty bread, filled with raisins and nuts._

"I WISH I COULD SEE PEETANIP AND GALENIP'S EXPRESSION'S. SHE PUT PEETANIP'S BREAD WHERE, AGAIN?" asks Finnick.

"UP YOUR BUT!" yells Katniss.

"AND YOU STILL ATE IT?" yells Finnick.

"OH, SHUT UP" yells Katniss.

_I put my clothes to dry at the fire, crawled into bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep. It didn't occur to me until the next morning that the boy might have burned the bread on purpose. Might have dropped the loaves into the f lames, knowing it meant being punished, and then delivered them to me. But I dismissed this. It must have been an accident. Why would he have done it? He didn't even know me. Still, just throwing me the bread was an enormous kindness that would have surely resulted in a beating if discovered. I couldn't explain his actions. We ate slices of bread for breakfast and headed to school. It was as if spring had come overnight. Warm sweet air. Fluffy clouds. At school, I passed the boy in the hall; his cheek had swelled up and his eye had blackened. He was with his friends and didn't acknowledge me in any way. But as I collected Prim and started for home that afternoon, I found him staring at me from across the school yard. Our eyes met for only a second, then he turned his head away._

"SHE WILL NEVER KNOW, HE THOUGHT SADLY. YOU IDIOT, CATNIP! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT HE LIKES YOU?" Finnick yells.

"WHAT? THAT'S RIDICULOUS." Yells Katniss.

"RIDICULOUS, EH? WHAT'S HIS EXPRESSION, RIGHT NOW? I CAN'T SEE, UNFORTUNATELY, BECAUSE YOU THREW ME OUT A OF A WINDOW-"

"NEVERMIND" yells Katniss.

_I dropped my gaze, embarrassed, and that's when I saw it. The first dandelion of the year. A bell went off in my head. I thought of the hours spent in the woods with my father and I knew how we were going to survive. _

"UM, ISN'T A DANDELION A WEED?" asks Finnick.

"YOU REALLY HAD TO RUIN THE MOMENT, DIDN'T YOU?" yells Haymitch.

"YES, I DID. HAYMITCH, MY OLD PAL, HOW ARE YOU?" asks Finnick.

_To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed._

"SHE CAN'T SHAKE THE CONNECTION BETWEEN YOU TWO. OOOO." Yells Finnick.

_And more than once, I have turned in the school hallway and caught his eyes trained on me, only to quickly f lit away. I feel like I owe him something, and I hate owing people._

"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU CAN DO TO PAY HIM BACK? TALK TO HIM? ACKNOWLEDGE HIS PRESCENCE! MAYBE?" asks Finnick.

"WHAT?" yells Katniss.

"ARE YOU DEAF?" yells Finnick.

"I WISH." Yells Katniss.

_Maybe if I had thanked him at some point, I'd be feeling less conflicted now. I thought about it a couple of times, but the opportunity never seemed to present itself. And now it never will. Because we're going to be thrown into an arena to fight to the death. Exactly how am I supposed to work in a thank-you in there? Somehow it just won't seem sincere if I'm trying to slit his throat._

"HA! LIKE YOUR GOING TO SLIT HIS THROAT! YOU CAN'T DIE WITH A GUILTY CONSCIENCE. IT'S VERY UN-CATNIP LIKE OF YOU." Yells Finnick.

"SHUT UP. OF COURSE NOT!" yells Katniss.

_The mayor finishes the dreary Treaty of Treason and motions for Peeta and me to shake hands. His are as solid and warm as those loaves of bread. Peeta looks me right in the eye_

"MMMHMM, YOU OWN IT PEETANIP. LOOK HER IN THE EYE. PULL HER CLOSE. MMMHMMM." Yells Finnick.

"SHUT UP" Katniss and Peeta yell together.

_and gives my hand what I think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Maybe it's just a nervous spasm. We turn back to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays. Oh, well, I think. There will be twenty-four of us. Odds are someone else will kill him before I do._

"WHAT? WHY IS SHE THINKING OF PEETANIP LIKE THAT? WHO ARE YOU?" yells Finnick.

_Of course, the odds have not been very dependable of late._

"WHAT A NICE WAY TO END THE CHAPTER. WITH A REASSURING FACT. AND GUESS WHAT? I CALL DIBS ON THE NEXT CHAPTER!" Finnick yells.

"NO!" everyone yells.

"I CALLED DIBS!" Finnick yells.

"FINE," Gale yells, throwing the book out the window so it hits his head, "READ THE NEXT CHAPTER!"

"I WILL!"

Yay. What fun.


	5. Chapter 5

I did not steal my idea from anyone. Or anything. I really liked the idea, and I hope you all like the story! I do not own anything. Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins, etc etc.

ALSO I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long! Things have been really hectic, and anyway, I'm going to be updating a lot more frequently (hopefully).

The Note, or the Death Sentence

Everyone in the room paused, preparing for the next chapter, but no sound came from where Finnick stood outside.

"HELLO?" yelled Haymitch out the window, "ARE YOU GOING TO MAYBE _TELL THE STORY?"_

"HANG ON," he yelled back, "I FOUND A NOTE AT THE BACK!"

"Can someone go let him in, unfortunately?" said Haymitch, resulting in defeated glances all around the room. "What? We need to let him in if we want to see this note."

"What if he's lying?" asked Peeta, "It's more likely that he's lying so he can get back in here."

"THANK YOU PEETA, FOR YOUR UTMOST FAITH," yelled Finnick through the window, "HOWEVER, AS CONVINCING AS YOUR ARGUMENT IS, I AM HOLDING A SHEET OF PAPER THAT SAYS "TO HAYMITCH AND RESPECTED COMPANY," AND IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE IT THEN I CAN KEEP IT TO MYSELF."

"Can someone just let him in, already?" sighed Gale, "I don't have forever to wait in this diseased room."

"Yeah," added Johanna, "who knows what unknown illness we've all probably contracted by now."

"Thank you both for your kind words," said Haymitch sarcastically, "but seeing as neither of you have gone to open the door, I take it that you, in fact, _enjoy _this room."

"CAN SOMEONE JUST OPEN THE DOOR?" yelled Finnick, "IT'S QUITE COLD OUT HERE."

"Fine," sighed Katniss, and she went to go unlock the door, bringing in a slightly rumpled looking Finnick, with dirt running down the side of his face where he obviously fell. For the first time, however, Finnick wasn't wearing a smirk or anything near a smile; in fact, he looked as though someone had just delivered a notice saying all his loved ones had perished in a fire.

"What's the matter, Finnick, the Capitol forgot to iron your bed sheets today?" asked Johanna sarcastically, "you look like you just got your death sentence."

"That's because I did, technically," he muttered, "see for yourself."

"Wait, what does he mean by death sentence, Haymitch," started Gale, reaching for the note in Finnick's outstretched hand, "he can't be serious."

Haymitch, however, grabbed the note before Gale could. "I don't know, why don't you let me actually read it first," said Haymitch.

_ Dear Haymitch, and Respected Company of Characters,_

_My name is Suzanne Collins. Something you should know about me is that I do not exist in your world; how strange must that sound to you, and I understand that you do not believe me. That is perfectly normal; why should you? You can try and search throughout all your twelve districts, but I will be in none. Why is that? Because I exist in the future. My ancestors have already lived through your story, and they exist among you right now. Your world is a thing of the past, and the only place that I have been able to trace it in is through history books and the stories passed down through my family. But that is unnecessary. The real thing that I would like to discuss with you is these books that I have arranged for you to get promptly at this time. My generation has things such as time travel that enable for this to happen._

_The point of these books, however, is nothing but a warning. The events that will occur within these pages will happen to you. There will be some of you whose deaths will be foretold within the pages of these three novels. Do not be scared; there is nothing you can do to change the course of events that are in here. If you try, you will cease to exist. _

_I feel as though the way each of your stories played out was unjust, and because it is this particular group of people who are currently reading these books that proceeded to make the biggest historical impacts on my society, I feel like you deserve to know what's coming for you. I realize that some of you, upon reading the final pages of Mockingjay, might feel that the story I am telling you is not fair. Please don't try and change the way these events occur. It is very dangerous when one messes with the desired nature of things; trust me, I know._

_So read these books, please do. You can choose not to if that is what you want, that choice is entirely yours. Whether or not you want to know how your fate plays out is a choice that I have now given you access to. You can choose to burn the books, you can destroy them if you want. Just know that it is no one's fate but your own that lies within these pages. If you tell anyone besides who I have carefully instructed to hear the content of these pages, you will die. _

_Sincerely yours,_

_Suzanne Collins_

Everyone stayed silent for what felt like years. They all had already known that it was them who were the characters in these novels. None of them, however, could have ever guessed what terrible, terrible things these three books were. Each of them wanted to both burn the books to the ground, and also read each of them over and over again until they had them memorized. None of them, however, wanted to pick them up and continue reading. Who knew who would be the first to die? What would become of that person who had their death foretold to them in a series of embellished words? More importantly, if they did choose to know, what would they do with that information, if they could do nothing to change it?

Finally, after what felt like forever, it was none but Finnick who spoke first.

"Ok, well, that's quite morbid, to be honest, but she is right. It's our choice whether or not we want to read this. So if that clock on Haymitch's diseased wall still works, than that means it's close to lunch time. So this is how it's going to play out," he said, looking up at them all. "We all go to our individual arrangements and eat lunch, but more importantly, we will all decide whether or not we want to stay and continue reading. Those who come back will start the books from where we left off; they will have chosen their fates. But those who do not come back, just know that we will not go back if you decide you want to come back when we've already moved on. These books will be burned after we're done with them, and anyone who chooses today must not tell a soul what lies within these pages. If you do, then you heard what the note said: you'll die. The choice is yours.

"Now go."


	6. Chapter 6

I did not steal my idea from anyone. Or anything. I really liked the idea, and I hope you all like the story! I do not own anything. Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins, etc etc.

Who Remained

The next hour and a half passed like seconds, and before they all knew it, it came time for them to decide whether or not they would return to Haymitch's house. Who knew what to do at this point? They all knew that it would eat them apart if they happened to die within the confines of that book, but did they really want to know when that would happen? What were they supposed to do?

Meanwhile, back at Haymitch's house, the owner sat on one of the only clean spots in the whole house, wondering what would happen if he just ran off, books in hand, kept them all to himself forever. Would the others try and track him down? Did these books really contain what they claimed to? Everyone was so confused; after all, how would you react if you found out that you could know when you died? What would you do? What would you say?

It was only half an hour later that Haymitch looked up to find that Katniss, Peeta, Prim, Rue, Finnick, and Johanna were the only ones who returned. They all stood and looked, searching for those who did not wish to return. When Katniss looked and saw Gale didn't come back, her face grew pale.

"Where's Gale?" she whispered quietly, eyes wide. "Why wouldn't he come back?"

"It doesn't matter why," said Haymitch dismissively, "anyone who isn't here right now doesn't get to hear what happens. So, Katniss, that means that even though Gale has heard up till now what is going on, he is not to hear anymore. If it drives him insane, the idea that he'll never know, then so be it." With the mention of the word "insane," however, Finnick's face turned a brief shade of gray before he quickly covered it up. "The point is, he, and all the others who have chosen not to come and finish the reading must never know how it ended. Understood?"

A nod passed through all the members, along with a brief uncertainty in each of them. Should they leave, just like all the others?

"Now, where did we leave off?" said Haymitch, settling into a comfortable position. "I believe Finnick was about to begin Chapter 3?"


	7. Chapter 7

_I did not steal my idea from anyone, or anything. All the characters belong to Suzanne Collins, etc, etc. _

Chapter 3, Book 1.

"_The moment the anthem ends, we are taken into custody. I don't mean we're handcuffed or anything, but a group of Peacekeepers marches us through the Justice Building. Maybe tributes have tried to escape in the past. I've never seen that happen though."_

"Can we pause for a moment," said Finnick, "and analyse how very _stupid _the main character appears to be?"

"WHO are you calling stupid, exactly?" demanded Katniss, turning to glare at him.

"Hang on, I believe there are 2 Katniss Everdeen's in this room," says Finnick, squinting at the space besides Katniss, "yes, how silly of me. I must say, your twin is much nicer than you. Oh, wait, that's because SHE NEVER OPENS HER MOUTH."

"Shut UP, both of you," says Haymitch, throwing his hands up, "do you want to get through these books or not?"

"Is that a serious question?" says Peeta sarcastically, examining a large pile of empty whiskey bottles.

"_Once inside, I'm conducted to a room and left alone. It's the richest place I've ever been in, with thick, deep carpets and a velvet couch and chairs."_

"WAIT, wait, wait," says Finnick, "you walk into a room and the first thing you notice is the fabric on the chairs? How deep the carpet is? Can you BE more weird?"

"Why don't you stop picking on me just because you have a low self-esteem?" demands Katniss, glaring across the room at where Finnick sits, lounging on the sofa between stacks of old bottles.

"_I _have a low self –esteem?" exclaims Finnick, "ME, who is loved and adored but the entirety of this very country, not to brag, but why would I have a low self-esteem?"

"Oh, excuse me," says Katniss, "I meant _overly-inflated head_."

"_I know velvet because my mother has a dress with a collar made out of the stuff. When I sit on the couch, I can't help running my fingers over the fabric repeatedly. It helps to calm me as I try to prepare for the next hour. The time allotted for the tributes to say goodbye to their loved ones. I cannot afford to get upset, to leave the room with puffy eyes and a red nose. Crying is not an option. There will be more cameras at the train station."_

"Who has the over-inflated head now, Hub?" asks Finnick sarcastically. "Doesn't want to let her makeup run because the cameras need to get her best angle," he sing-songs, fake tossing hair over his shoulder to mock her. "I'm going to my death, but I least I do it _in style_/"

"Aren't you the one who's been the spokesperson of every fish-related product known to humanity?" asks Katniss.

"Yes, love, I _know _you've been keeping little tabs on me over the years, no need to hide your little schoolgirl crush. I'm used to it, trust me," he says, winking at her.

Katniss looks at the ceiling and mimes throwing up out the window. Johanna snorts, and Rue stifles a laugh.

"_My sister and my mother come first. I reach out to Prim, and she climbs onto my lap."_

"First you sleep with her, now she's climbing on your lap? In front of your _mother?_ Have you no shame? Isn't there like a law against child molesting or something," says Finnick.

"_-her arms around my neck, head on my shoulder, just like she did when she was a toddler. Mt mother sits beside me and wraps her arms arounf me. For a few minutes, we say nothing. Then I start telling them all the things they must remember to do, now that I will not be there to do them for them. Prim is not to take any tesserare. They can get by, if they're careful, on selling Prim's goat milk-"_

"WHAT?" yells Finnick, rereading the sentence, "Prim's a GOAT?"

"I'M RIGHT HERE," yells Prim, waving her arms, "are you chronically stupid?"

"Glad I'm not the only one who sees it," snorts Katniss, crossing her arms and sliding against the wall.

"Then why did you name a goat after yourself? Do you see some of you in the goat?" asks Finnick stifling a laugh, "do you feel a spiritual connection with the goat?"

"Can we all vouch to get him evacuated?" asks Katniss, "we can take a vote. I'm sure I'd win."

"No, Katniss," sighs Haymitch, "trust me, I've already thought of that. Too much trouble, and I'm honestly too lazy to hold him out."

"I'M RIGHT HERE," yells Finnick, waving his arms.

"Oh, really, I was trying to forget about that dreadful fact," mutters Peeta, catching Katniss' eye and looking away quickly.

"_-and cheese and the small apothecary business my mother now runs for the people in the Seam. Gale will get her the herbs she doesn't grow herself-"_

"Oh wait," says Finnick, "look who decided to pop up coincidentally out of the blue. Old lover boy," he says, looking over at Katniss.

"Shut UP," she says, though she does feel a slight pang in her chest at the mention of his name. How could he leave her alone here? What if he was one of the ones who died in this book? She didn't think she could bear it.

"_-but she must be very careful to describe them because he's not familiar with them as I am."_

"You know," says Finnick, flipping through the pages dismissively, "I always pegged him to be an idiot, ever since I first met him."

"I am going to kill you," says Katniss, "It will be unexpected, and you might be caught off guard, but I will kill you. Just thought you should know."

"Duly noted," says Finnick, miming a yawn, "trust me, I'm more scared than I look of your small self. You're quite intimidating."

"_He'll also bring them game-he and I made a pact about this a year or so ago-and will probably not ask for compensation, but they should thank him with some of trade, like milk or medicine."_

"Hey, Prim goat," says Finnick, "now that you know you're gonna be giving him medicine, why don't you poison it with arsenic ahead of time so we can get rid of him."

"Are you mad?" asks Prim.

"No, I'm actually quite sane. I think," says Finnick. He pauses. "Oh, wait, nevermind, I'm certifiably insane. Don't worry. At least _I _acknowledge my insanity, unlike the marvelous Catnip across from me."

"ENOUGH," yells Haymitch, rising drunkenly from his spot, "GIVE ME THE BOOK, YOU'RE BRIEF PRIVILEGE HAS BEEN REVOKED, YOU VILLAGE IDIOT."

"You can't do that!" says Finnick, standing as well, "SHE started it."

"What are you, five?" says Haymitch, "Hand over the book, Finnick. We need to get through this thing soon so we can actually read all three before they become reality."

"Are you calling me a slow reader?" asks Finnick, miming insult.

"Just give me the book, so we can finish this chapter and go home for the night," says Haymitch.

"Fine," says Finnick, tossing the book to Haymitch, who stumbles when catching it and falls into an old pile of socks, "but I will _not _go lightly."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 3, Book 1, Part 2

_I did not steal my idea from anyone or anything. All the characters and details belong to Suzanne Collins, etc, etc. _

"_I don't bother suggesting Prim learn to hunt. I tried to teach her a couple of times and it was disastrous."_

"What did you do, shoot her or something? I can tell by your constant angry and unnecessary outbursts that you're probably not that good at patience and concentration. Probably wouldn't be the best teacher," said Finnick.

Katniss, who was in the middle of biting a cuticle, turns her head skyward and mouths "WHY ME?"

"_The woods terrified her, and whenever I shot something, she'd get teary and talk about how we might be able to heal it if we got it home soon enough. But she makes out well with her goat, so I concentrate on that."_

"Am I hearing correctly, or did you just say that this little girl _makes out _with a goat?" asks Finnick, "isn't that, like, illegal or something?"

"Are you serious?" asks Katniss, "like, is he serious right now?"

"Of course you'd find that normal, Catnip, you probably do weirder things in the woods by yourself during all that free time you spend there by yourself," says Finnick, leaning back.

"You disgusting little-," starts Katniss, rounding on Finnick.

"Can I just remind us all that there are two children present and a book that needs to be read?" says Haymitch, waving the book vigorously, "I would much rather be away from all of you too, but we have to read these stupid things together or not at all," he says, gesturing to the box next to him that holds the next two books of the trilogy.

"_When I am done with instructions about fuel, and trading, and staying in school, I turn to my mother and grip her arm, hard." _

"Always the avid supporter of violence," says Finnick, "even to her own mother. So animalistic," he says with mock shock.

""_Listen to me. Are you listening to me?" She nods, alarmed by my intensity. She must know what's coming. "You can't leave again," I say. My mother's eyes find the floor. "I know. I won't. I couldn't help what-""Well you have to help it this time. You can't clock out and leave Prim on her own. There's no me now to keep you both alive. It doesn't matter what happens. No matter what you see on the screen. You have to promise me you'll fight through it!" My voice has risen to a shout."_

"Well, that's a shocker," says Finnick, "since when has little, sweet-tempered Katniss ever been known to raise her voice? It's almost inconceivable."

"For such an idiot you sure have an expansive vocabulary," says Katniss.

"You know I try for you, Catnip," says Finnick with a wink, "after you, Haymitch."

"_In it is all the anger, all the fear I felt at her abandonment. She pulls her arm from my grasp, moved to anger herself now. "I was ill. I could have treated myself if I'd had the medicine I have now." That part about her being ill might be true. I've seen her bring back people from immobilizing sadness since. Perhaps it is a sickness, but it's one we can't afford."_

"Question," says Finnick, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why is everything centered around Catnip in this book? Like, no offense, but no one really cares. Like at all."

"I care," says Prim, squeezing Katniss' hand. This description of her mother's illness has a particularly powerful effect on the young girl, as well as Katniss herself. No one in the District ever knew the full details, and both Haymitch and Peeta were native in District 12. Who knew if they would ever tell anyone? What would become of their family, who had already taken long enough to drag themselves back together, after everything had fallen apart so quickly and easily?

"It makes me wonder," says an author by the name of Suzanne Collins, seated in a particularly soft chair in front of the fire and speaking to her publisher over the phone, "if I should have done what I did."

"And what is that?" responds the publisher, sounding quite exhausted and tired over the line but still enthusiastic, "write one of the most successful trilogies ever?"

"Yeah," she says. Yet we all know this is not the case. The thing that is troubling our dear author is whether or not she should have sent those innocent characters this trilogy that could possibly ruin their lives. Who knows which of them chose to hear what the books had to say? Who's to say that they had even read her note at all, that it had not simply fallen out while they were examining the contents of the package?

"I wouldn't worry too much Suzanne," says her publisher, "you're too rich to be worrying this much."

""_Then take it. And take care of her!" I say. "I'll be alright, Katniss," says Prim, clasping my face in her hands. "But you have to take care too. You're so fast and brave. Maybe you can win." I can't win. Prim must know that in her heart. The competition will be far beyond my abilities. Kids from wealthier districts, where winning is a huge honour, who've been trained their whole lives for this. Boys who are two to three times my size. Girls who know twenty different ways to kill you with a knife. Oh, there'll be people like me, too. People to weed out before the real fun begins."_

"Hey, I hate to interrupt," says Haymitch, glancing up briefly, "but how does that brilliant explanation, explain how I won when I was in the Games? I was as thin as a twig!"

"The world may never know," says Finnick, " and they may never care, either, as I don't, which is probably the more likely option."

""_Maybe," I say, because I can hardly tell my mother to carry on if I've already given up myself. Besides, it isn't in my nature to go down without a fight-"_

"I would have never guessed," says Finnick sarcastically.

"_-even when things seem insurmountable. "Then we'd be as rich as Haymitch."_

"Hey, look!" says Haymitch.

"Hey, that rhymed," says Finnick, "rich. Haymitch. Sometimes, I wonder how I was blessed with such a high IQ."

"Maybe you just snorted too much salt water," says Katniss, to which Peeta gives a loud snort that he quickly turns into a cough.

""_I don't care if we're rich," says Prim, "I just want you to come home. You will try, won't you? Really, really try? "Really, really try. I swear it," I say. And I know, because of Prim, I'll have to. And then the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling that our time is up, and we're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I'm saying is "I love you. I love you both." And they're saying it back and then the Peacekeeper orders them out and the door closes. I bury my head in one of the velvet pillows as if this can block the whole thing out. Someone else enters the room, and when I look up, I'm surprised to see it's the baker, Peeta Mellark's father."_

"Oh what a lovely turn of events," says Finnick, rising up from his position and clapping his hands in mock delight, "time to take a ride on the crazy train featuring old bakers."

"Will you please shut up?" says Peeta.

"Not very likely, bread boy," says Finnick.

"_I can't believe he's come to visit me."_

"Yeah, well, neither can we, Catnip," says Finnick to the book, rolling his eyes.

"_After all, I'll be trying to kill his son soon."_

"WOAH, woah woah woah, Catnip, I thought we were all friends here, and you're talking about killing my main man Peeta?" says Finnick.

"I am NOT your main man," says Peeta indignantly, "don't ever call me that again. Like ever."

"_But we do know each other a bit, and he knows Prim even better."_

"That is vaguely pedophilic," says Finnick.

"_When she sells her goat cheeses at the Hob, she puts two of them aside for him and he gives her a generous amount of bread in return."_

"Does 'goat cheeses' happen to be a sexual innuendo, because it sure sounds like it," says Finnick warily, eyeing Prim suspiciously.

"Are you mentally unstable?" says Katniss, "like do you seriously have mental issues?"

"Possibly," says Finnick, "though I've never bothered to look into it when you're as rich and adored as I am."

"_We always wait to trade with him when his witch of a wife isn't around because he's so much nicer."_

"Hey, my main man, aren't you going to respond to that?" asks Finnick, throwing an empty milk carton at Peeta.

"I would, but it's true," says Peeta with a shrug, "and don't ever call me that again or I will kill you."

"_I feel certain he would never have hit his son the way she did over the burned bread. But why has he come to see me?"_

"Oh, can I please read from here?" asks Finnick, "Please Haymitch?"

"NO!" says Katniss, jumping from her seat, "please don't. Let Prim read from here."

"Why me?" says Prim questioningly, "I don't want to read it."

"Anyone but him," says Peeta, "I'll do it. After all, I'm probably coming up soon anyway, it's only fair."

"Ok, Peeta reads," says Haymitch, handing Peeta the book while Finnick flops back against his seat warily, "but I'm next."


End file.
